


Molasses

by Nen (Nenchen)



Series: Finally, some good fucking food [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Altered Mental States, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Edging, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Lube, M/M, Massage, Miraculous lube, Orgasm Delay, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Apocalypse, Post-Coital Cuddling, Restraints, but not enough for the consent to be dubious, by body, in the good way, just saying Crowley is kind of out of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenchen/pseuds/Nen
Summary: Crowley is feeling restless and goes to Aziraphale for help. He gets what he wanted.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Finally, some good fucking food [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973968
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74
Collections: Spice Rack





	Molasses

**Author's Note:**

> This one is from tumblr. Remember when I outsourced the other two ficlets because they were so much longer than the rest? Look at this word count and laugh at me XD

Today was one of those days.

Crowley had woken up and known immediately any amount of caffeine would be a mistake, and then proceeded to down two cups anyway, all the while jiggling his knees up and down, tapping his feet. Just because the routine of it was comforting. He had then proceeded to move to the garden, stalking in between the flower and vegetable beds, inspecting them all with the utmost scrutiny while not actually taking in a single thing he saw. Everything was off, his body felt tense and overwrought and itchy, as if he was a snake about to shed. Don’t stop me now, expect please someone do, because he wasn’t having such a good time at all. Frustrated, he had moved inside and started to clean, first the kitchen, then the hallway, his records, the bathroom that frankly didn’t need it and finally the living room. That apparently had been where Aziraphale drew the line.

“You are awfully – Crowley would you stop fiddling with the vacuum – awfully pent up really. Let me do something to help you.”

And with that he had dragged him off, to their bedroom, and Crowley had been so relieved. Aziraphale would help him, he knew. It had almost become a routine at this point.

And now, after a quick strip, Crowley was lying on their bed in nothing but his just shy of nothing pants, on his stomach, anticipating the angel’s move. His leg twitched. He fiddled with the trim of one of the throw pillows. And Aziraphale sighed.

“Now, I want you to tell me exactly what feels wrong. Restless? Untethered?”

Crowley nodded, quickly, jerking his head up and down.

“Like there’s ants under my skin, and they have their nest in my head and their favourite food is thoughts and they have to prepare for the winter.”

“Oh dear.”

Another jerking nod from Crowley.

This was torture. Just lying still like this was driving him mad, he needed to get up, to move, do something –

He was jolted out of his spiral as abruptly as James Bond was out of his car after pressing the eject button. Except not really, because Bond usually went up, and he was rather pressed down by the weight of Aziraphale, now sitting on his hips.

He tensed in anticipatory relief, and then tensed more when he unexpectedly felt the angel’s hands on his shoulders instead of somewhere more target-oriented.

“What-”

“I would like to try something a bit different today. I think you could benefit from a massage.”

Crowley squirmed, uncomfortable.

“Why? Angel, we both know what works, why change the routine? If you don’t want to do it just say so, I’ll find something-”

“That is not the case at all. I simply put some thought into this and I think getting to a more peaceful state of mind before release might benefit you. Especially since it seems like you are feeling like this more frequently.”

“What are you getting fed up? Again you don’t have to-”

“Crowley. Stop.”

Crowley shut his mouth quickly enough to bite his tongue. The mild pain was grounding him, a bit.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

The answer was said faster than he could even think and he half wished he had damaged his tongue a bit. He hated the automatism of it, the way that Aziraphale asking something directly left him no choice but to be honest. He just wasn’t used to it, never prepared for it. It was too vulnerable, this new honesty. He squirmed again.

“Then please, trust my judgment in this. Let me try just for a while. If you feel the same after, I’ll help you in the way you’re used to.”

Crowley grumbled something only a being that knew him for over 6000 years could interpret as some form of consent, helpless in the face of good arguments, and Aziraphale started the massage.

The first few strokes along his back and shoulders were soft, almost petting, but soon the angel put more of his weight into it, firmly pressing the demon into the mattress in a way that was familiar but also not.

Stroke and stroke and up and down, the angel’s warm, heavy hands worked along his spine with continuous pressure. The repetitive motion was firm enough that he couldn’t simply ignore it, a part of his brain always following it no matter where the rest ran off to. Could be off to Alpha Centauri, but the angel was still running his hands along his spine, up and down and up and down. From time to time a twitchy muscle gave in and relaxed under his motions.

It felt good, was the thing. The attention, the care the angel put in, always pushing just hard enough to keep Crowley grounded it was, well it was nice. Up and down and up and down, warm, and firm and there. Crowley realized his thoughts had slowed down. The itching had subsided. He felt at home in his skin. And still, the angel was running his hands over his body with silent determination. Up and down and up and down and up and down, slower and slower, until Crowley finally gave in completely and relaxed. He felt warm and sluggish, a bit floaty. Like laying in a tub of molasses. He knew he could move if he wanted to, could get the world going again but he just didn’t feel like mustering up the effort. He was comfortable like this, wrapped up in warm, heavy angel touches that kept him here.

He had no idea how long he had been out of it, but he was brought back to their bed with soft kisses that he leaned into.

“There you are, love. I thought you fell asleep on me.” Aziraphale said, voice teasing and loving.

“Mhhh, almost. When did you get so good at that?”

“Oh, it’s just something I learned a while ago. I am glad it helped.”

Crowley could feel the unspoken words. And still, he had to ask.

“For me?”

The angel took a deep breath.

“Of course for you, darling.”

The demon leaned forwards for another deep kiss, willing his heavy arms to move so he could wrap them around the angel. As much as the angel was talking freely about his feelings now, it still was hard for him to admit just how long he had had them. Crowley would never press him to talk about it, but every time he did, it took his breath away. To know they had been the same for so long.

He kissed the angel harder, his body slowly waking up and gaining mobility once again that he used to wrap himself around the angel in an effort to be as close as possible. He was desperate for the angel, but it was a different kind of desperation than before the massage. Before he had been desperate for relief. Now he was desperate for the angel. Deepening the kiss, Crowley began to move slowly against Aziraphale, press up into that wonderful soft and warm body. The angel moaned into his mouth, just as affected by this as Crowley was. However, Crowley couldn’t do much more, and he was getting frustrated. He broke the kiss.

“Angel, can you take the lead today? I’m a bit powered out.”

The angel smiled at him.

“Of course, dear. Would you mind if we untangle for a bit, so I can get undressed?”

Begrudgingly, Crowley let go of his angel and hauled his leg back from where it had been wrapped around the angel’s hips. He watched as the angel loosened his bow tie in the fussy way he always did. The afternoon sun was shining golden through the windows, bathing the angel in light that was too beautiful to be ethereal. In the warm glow of it, everything about the angel looked enticingly soft, his motions unhurried and smooth as he slowly undressed.

Crowley just lay there watching him. Some days he would have complained about the speed, maybe, impatient to embrace him again. But not today. Today he had asked the angel to help him, and then to take over the reins. And he still felt deliciously loose and relaxed from the angel’s earlier ministrations. So today, he would wait for however long the angel decided to take.

It didn’t feel like a long wait when the angel climbed back into the bed, gathering Crowley against him to once again kiss him. Crowley let himself simply enjoy the contact and attention, matching the angel as his kisses got deeper and his hands greedier, finally removing his pants. He gasped when the angel touched the sensitive skin, wrapping a miraculously lubed hand around the both of them and starting with slow, steady motions.

He couldn’t help but squirm against the angel, movements still sluggish but enthusiastic nonetheless. The angel tsked.

“I thought I was to set the pace, my dear?” he said, emphasizing his control of the situation with a strong, long pull that had Crowley moan.

“Sorry, sorry,” he wheezed.

Crowley willed himself to be still, waiting for the angel to continue. But it seemed the angel had other plans, gazing at him with a considering, calculating look.

“Would you mind if we were to change position so I can restrain you a bit more?” the angel asked, the question sending wisps of want all throughout Crowley’s stomach.

“Fucking stars, angel, do you even have to ask?”

The angel only raised an eyebrow at this. Crowley swallowed dryly, answering properly.

“No. No, I don’t mind at all.”

This earned him an approving smile. And then, before he even realized what had happened, the angel had turned him onto his back and was pinning him down, leg on leg, hand on arm. Crowley’s head was swimming. And it was swimming even more when the angel moved his hand down again.

“Would you mind grabbing onto something with that hand? You can move it around if you get uncomfortable, but no touching unless I say so. Just let me do what you asked for.”

Crowley nodded and promptly complied, almost knocking his hand on the headboard in his haste to grab onto it. His mouth was feeling as dry, and the rest of him as hot, as the desert had been all those millennia ago.

And then Aziraphale started to move again, hand and hips in a wonderfully slow rhythm that had Crowley squirm against him, or well try to. There wasn’t much he could do, pinned beneath his angel, except take whatever Aziraphale was offering, and it was glorious.

Unlike when they did this with the angel inside him his legs were also pinned completely and he couldn’t even clench around the angel to elicit one of those delightful noises he would make. He could barely move his head up far enough to indicate he wanted more kisses, voice long lost. Aziraphale, of course, understood and was glad to oblige, kissing him and moving against him until most of Crowley’s conscious thought was reminiscent of static at best.

He felt the pleasure build up inside, slow and steady with Aziraphale’s movements, coiling hot in his gut but never quite enough to crest. He whined into the angel’s mouth, and the angel chuckled.

“Would you like for me to speed things up, dear?” he asked, voice dripping with fake surprise.

“You know damn well that you’ve been keeping me on edge for at least the past five minutes, you bastard.”

The angel simply hummed and kissed him again, not speeding up at all. If anything he was slowing down. Crowley broke their kiss to hiss out another whine.

“Aziraphale!”

“Oh, was that supposed to be a request for me to move faster? It was hardly even a complaint, you’ll have to be more direct.”

Crowley chewed on his lips. Aziraphale’s expression lit up and he stopped his movements.

“You _enjoy_ _this_.”

“Hnnh. Maybe? But I would also like to come sometimes in the next hour, angel, and no-” He added when he saw the look in Aziraphale’s eyes. “-this is not an invitation to keep this up for another hour.”

“Just a bit longer?” the angel asked.

“Just a bit longer, and if you could start moving again soon that would be marvellous,” Crowley pressed out.

The angel blinked.

“Oh dear, pardon me. Of course.”

The relief of being touched soon again turned into the same sweet agony of so much but not quite enough. He couldn’t focus on much beside the slow sweet slide of the angel against him, the pressure where he was pinned down, the kisses. Being so completely enveloped by his angel taking care of him, at last made even the last lingering traces of nervousness he hadn’t even realized were still there slowly fizz out. He didn’t squirm anymore, his movements now limited to reciprocating the angel’s kisses as best as he could, his entire body flooded by a tingly sort of warmth.

Aziraphale never did change the pace much, only speeding up a tiny bit as his own kisses became more desperate. Crowley simply leaned into it, content with feeling the angel against him. The heat was still coiling inside him, and he knew that with this change of pace, however slight it might be, it wouldn’t take long now.

But then, to his surprise, the angel gasped into his mouth, hips stuttering against his as he came. Crowley could feel him pulsing hotly against himself, the unexpectedly added stimulation finally pushing him over the edge. He moaned against the angel who was still moving his hand on both of them, shamelessly chasing the residual aftershocks of pleasure, before collapsing slightly onto Crowley.

Crowley wheezed slightly under the sudden additional weight, making Aziraphale roll off him immediately.

“Oh dear, my apologies.”

He snapped them both clean again, sweat and other fluids replaced with the feeling of stepping out of the shower, and a slight smell of rosemary. Then he turned towards Crowley, smiling.

“Wonderful suggestion, my dear, I enjoyed myself immensely. How about you?”

Crowley, slowly turning to his side, returned the angel’s smile.

“Was alright I guess,” he sniffed, his ever-widening grin exposing the lie.

Aziraphale beamed, and leaned forward place a silly little kiss on the tip of his nose.

“High praise from you.”

Then his expression turned tender.

“And how are you feeling now?”

Crowley wanted to say he was alright. He had been, not even a few seconds ago! But he could feel it taking hold of him again, unease coiling in his gut where the pleasure had just left. Not nearly as bad, but…

“Better. Just- can you just hold me, for a bit?”

Aziraphale sat up and for a second the unease spiked. Then Crowley was gathered into strong arms, held against a soft chest. The angel dropped a kiss in his hair.

“Of course, love. Anything you need. For however long you do.”

Crowley buried his face in the angel’s softness. Sometimes the angel couldn’t help him to make this feeling go away. But the more important thing was that he would never have to face it alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to check out the rest of this series! 
> 
> Feel free to tell me about spelling errors, grammar errors and britpick.  
> You can give me prompts here and on tumblr, but I can't promise I'll write them.
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me writing, so please give me anything you can :D No comment is unappreaciated!
> 
> Come visit my tumblr at [goodduckingomens](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/goodduckingomens).  
> 


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